


The Ageless Winter

by 7CuteCreationImagination7



Series: Age is Just a Number [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Awesome Sam Wilson, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Gen, I Tried, Kid Natasha Romanov, Secrets, Series, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov - Freeform, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Universe Alterrations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-03-28 09:20:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13901001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7CuteCreationImagination7/pseuds/7CuteCreationImagination7
Summary: Basically a retelling of "The Winter Soldier" from Natasha, and possible other character's point of view, in my "Age is But a Number " Universe( Which is a universe in which Natasha is actually nine years younger than in movie canon)I am bad at summaries, so please give it a shot.





	1. Natasha: Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya, so yeah.
> 
> This is a series now.
> 
> i HOPE YOU LIKE THIS. Feedback is appreciated, even if its just to rant at my grammar.
> 
> I love you all, drink water, eat snacks, and God bless

Natasha was frankly irritated by this situation. Steve Rogers was a good man, but his goodness was proportional to his righteousness. 

She had been his field partner for three months and she already was fed up. Firstly, he was naive, way too naive. He helped people, stopped on missions to greet children and just… didn’t seem to know his stuff.

He could fight, and order, but when it came to espionage, Natasha occasionally had to stop herself from yelling. He didn’t know how to carry himself, how to flirt.

She knew she wasn’t being fair, but it did sting that she had yelled at her for doing her job. She had been given a separate mission, so what?  
He had acted as if she had betrayed him, whence hadn’t even done anything wrong. She was being Fury’s agent, doing what he wanted and pleasing the organisation. She was being a good person.

But as she walks home, the bruises from how Rodgers had grabbed her and slammed her behind the wall aching distantly, she sighed.  
Two years.

It had been two years since the Avengers. Since the last time she had a hope to dash for freedom.

SHIELD was good. But freedom seemed better. She wanted to go to university, tell people of a wild and outrageous gap year, and get good grades.

She sighed, falling onto her bed. Tomorrow she would get up, be the good agent she was manufactured to be. Tomorrow she would deal with Rogers and deal with how he reminds her of-

The phone rang, her last distant thought evaporating like hot steam.

She blearily reached over for it, expecting the usual death threats, or a dull mission, when her heart sank to the bottom of her stomach.

Fury.

She grabbed a hoodie, and ran, not even stopping to get a cab. Her hair was damp from sweat and rain, but he was still there.

High blood pressure, low pulse, but he was still there. 

She compartmentalised the information. Soviet bullet. Untraceable. Near the Artery. Unlikely to survi—

No. 

Maria arrived, looking sad, but also… guilty. Natasha compartmentalised that for later. Rogers then came in. Wet hands. No look of shock. He had been the one to call her. Fury had gone to him.

Hmm.

Then, just as she want to turn to Rogers and ask questions… Fury’s heart stops. And so does hers.

If Fury dies… she won’t know what to do. The world will crumble, then burst into flames, and all she will be able to to is to pitifully stare at the rising flames as all she had achieved in the last four years turns into ashes.  
The council will kicker out, she will be exiled from the US and then all her past enemies will…

Its safe to say that a world without Fury would not be a good world.

Then, she concentrates, putting everything together. She kisses Fury’s forehead, and ignores how cold how dead it is.

“Why was Fury in your apartment” she demands, but apparently Rogers is acting like a fool.  
Maria is acting secretive, informing them of a “vacation”.

Natasha doesn’t show up to work the next day.  
SHIELD is mad, but she sees no allegiance to SHIELD anymore, not without Fury or Hill, ( or Coulson).

She tries to go back to the hospital, to clear her mind, and goes to get some chips. The glint of metal with the SHIELD insignia makes her sigh, knowing that this will force her to see a bigger, uglier picture.

She isn’t wrong.

Rogers comes back, in an awful disguise, full righteous Captain America mode on. He slams her into the wall when he sees her, and she feels disgusting as she sees herself fall into an old trick:flirting. She stops herself, and gives Rogers minimal information. 

He gives her the news that SHIELD tried to kill him. She doesn’t mention that her SHIELD apartment was raided and trashed during the night.

When they go back to her safe apartment she hides in her bathroom, and takes the mask off. She quickly washes her face, knowing that there is a chance that she may not get to do so for a long time.  
She then texts Clint to stay with Laura, and to not leave the house.

She had suspected corruption in SHIELD for a while, and she desperately hopes that she is wrong.

The disguises are … nerdy. But making someone with Steve’s build look un-intimidating is a very hard process.  
The glasses may be over exaggerated, but to be honest… he doesn’t look bad in them.

The mall is packed and she frankly decides that she does not enjoy crowds. The guy at the Apple store is friendly, but she doesn’t need friendly, she needs efficient.

New Jersey. Huh. 

The fact that it is a remote hidden military base that only Steve seems to know about, reminds her of a plot of a very bad bad horror film.

The fact that Rumlow is after her does not surprise her. He was too talented to be a mere operations officer. He also made multiple passes at her before Hill “convinced” him to stop.

Kissing Steve… its not pleasant. He is kind, and handsome… but he is also biologically seven years older than her.  
And that doesn’t count the cryogenic years ( not that she can talk much).

It also makes her uncomfortable that she had to resort to kissing, she doesn’t like using her body as a distraction, as a weapon… as a tool.

In the car she chokes when Steve asks her to be his friend. Friend. She didn’t know how to make friends. Clint had adopted her, so had Maria and Simmons.  
And Katrina and James… that had been a different life.

They pull up to New Jersey, her mirthless laugh still on her lips. The dusty area is… wrong.  
The dust seems fake, the frown on Steve’s face confirms her suspicions.

Something is wrong.  
Something is very very wrong, and not for the first time this past week, Natasha wishes she were just a carefree college student, partying instead of handing in their undergrad essay.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi. This is part 2. I hope you guy like it. Please comment any criticism.  
>  Love you all. God Bless.

She had been right.

The bunker had been a trap. The pictures of Steve’s last … girlfriend?, the dusty but modern technology… it had been an obvious trap.

Zola hadn’t known, which was nice. Stating her birth date, and her Red Room name had been cruel, but from the glint in his eyes as he said them, it was clear that he thought that both were absolute facts.

Steve had been shocked, and so had she knowing that Howard Stark’s death hadn’t been an absolute accident. She should have mulled over who had done it, why this was so important, but to be honest… she was tired.

It was exhausting. Being on the run was second nature. Having the mask on was as well. But doing both for an amount of time, especially with Mr Freedom, Righteousness and Liberty, well it was draining.

She was so exhausted that she didn’t pay attention to the creaking of hinges, the sounds of freshly oiled, but old pulleys working.

The door slammed shut as a faint beeping noise was heard.

Steve grabbed her, pulling her down into a hatch.

His shield covered most of her body, but in panic she tried to push away from him, pushing his shield onto own head.

She pressed the side of her forehead, ensuring that she mask was firmly latched on, and only a passcode would get it off her face.

Then, a large piece of rubble hit her temple, and she was sent spiralling into darkness…

 

 

 

She was being carried.

This was not an unusual situation.

Many criminals liked drugging her, then realising that she can’t walk whilst sedated, end up carrying her to the cell. And she usually breaks through the haze of sedatives faster than others due to built up immunity.

Only there were too many things wrong. There was no haze of sedatives, no bruise on an arm or leg signalling injection, and her lungs were unharmed. 

The way they were carrying her was odd too. Tense, signalling worry or stress, but trying very hard not to jostle her.

Weird.

She couldn’t remember much apart from the fact that she had been hit by something. Or someone.

She tensed, then, decided to act. She jumped out of the person’s arms, swaying slightly as the blood rushed from her head and the concussion made itself known. She couldn’t see properly, but identified a muscular person moving towards her. 

She swung her legs around their chest, and brought them down to the floor with a thud. She tried to get up, but they help her down, and seemed to be saying something.

“….Natahsa ……-alm down… -oncussion…-ts me … -teve”

She blinked slowly as the blurriness began to fade.

Steve.

 

She should have apologised, perhaps explained her reflexes, then asked what was going on, but considering she was on the floor, bruised and battered, with steadily throbbing head, the only thing that came out was a very eloquent:

“Huh?”

He helped her up, and swung her arm around his shoulders, bending slightly to support her weight.

He quickly and quietly explained what was going on. That Fury was dead, that HYDRA was still up and running inside SHIELD and that she had gotten hurt when HYDRA operatives had blown up the bunker.

She had remembered it all within the first sentence, but it seemed to be helping him work out a plan of action, and to be honest, she was too tired to make up a plan herself.

Her eyes began to droop, when a hands gingerly tapped her cheek, and he whispered.

“I have a plan. It isn’t a good one, but it’s a plan.”

 

He hotwired a motor cycle, and blushed a wonderful shade of crimson when Natasha hopped in behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

They ditched it in a river when they got near the city, Natasha merely staring at the sinking metal as Steve uncomfortably shifted, obviously not accustomed to theft, vandalism or criminal life.

Sweet Innocence.

They spied on a man running in the park. Relatively tall. Athletic build. African-American. Abnormally strong upper body muscles. Military Background.

Steve was set on following behind him, when Natasha spied the oddly active security cameras.

She quickly tapped her mask, giving herself much more angular features, and told Steve to stay down. 

He was too busy looking affronted to see that her face had changed.

She walked up to the man -Wilson- and flirted with him. He was disinterested, respectful, but he clearly just wanted to leave.

She eyed the room key shape in his pocket. Stereotypical of a small but expensive apartment… very urban. 

His mannerisms and his clothes gave away that he lived within the vicinity of a shopping centre ( medium price range. used for exercise. well paid.)

She tapped him on the shoulder, putting a small tag onto it. It was one of her own, part of a very illegal stash, but now, legality didn’t really seem to matter.

She knew where he lived. She faked a phone call, and walked off, giggling and forcing herself to blush.

With a few rapid taps she was back to her normal, a russian-american red head in her late twenties.

Steve looked questioningly at her, when she showed him the tracker on her phone. He looked mildly annoyed but impressed when saw that she had managed to place a tracker on a known military soldier.

 

They arrived at his house, and it was interesting seeing his bewildered face as he recognised Steve’s face. 

He awkwardly let them in, as Natasha introduced herself again.

“So who are you?”

“ Remember New York?”

“… yes?”

“Remember the unknown agent that closed the portal?”

“ Yeah I guess… oh . “

“Name’s Natasha Romanoff, or Black Widow”

“Sam Wilson. Nickname Falcon”

He frowned when he saw the recognition in her eyes, but she was too tired to care. Hacking into military files out of boredom was common nowadays, especially since SHIELD had recently lowered her missions. Ah, that made sense now. Hindsight really was 20/20

 

She walked into the bathroom, ignoring Roger’s still form on the bed, and washed her hair, her face, her arms. Trying to wash away the fact that she had been helping HYDRA instead of SHIELD. Trying to scrub away the missions which she had wanted to question but couldn’t.

She had locked the door, but taking off her mask had been complicated, washing it had been also strange, but there wasn’t much she could do.

She stepped out, her hair drying into curls.

Rogers wanted a sappy conversation so she gave him one. It felt odd, but not bad. Besides, Rogers needed some reassurance that this wasn’t a normal occurrence.

As he showered, she walked into the kitchen, following Sam’s offer of food. He stared at her, and then asked.

“Do you want some straighteners? My sister left them behind last time she stayed.”

She gratefully took them, as he continued to stare at her wide eyed, timidly passing her the cereal.

Steve finally arrived, and a plan began to form. Sitwell was at the head of this, and he knew what was going on.

 

Steve got the car and the gun, Wilson got the extraction plan, and she got the theft plan. It was a pretty sweet deal.

Breaking into the vault had been simple. She simply walked into a Forever 21, grabbed some clothes, took the mask off, and pretended to be a lost intern at the office.  
Then she had just knocked out the five people manning the security cameras, and them grabbed the jetpack.

Easy.

She handed a stunned Wilson the wings, and met Steve on the roof. Kicking Sitwell off the roof had been satisfying. He had once tried to get her demoted for refusing to accept an intense three month undercover seduction mission.

The blood drained out of her face as he told them the plan. Stark would be blamed. Everyone would be killed. Bruce would Hulk out and not come back. Clint and his family could be endangered.

They drove the car to DC, preparing to dismantle the helicarriers using Sitwell’s code, when a metal thud landed on the roof.

A flick switched in her brain.

It was him.

Zimniy Soldat.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi. This is a continuation of things. I hope you guys like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. 
> 
> I hope its okay.
> 
> Um, slight trigger warning for sensory overload. ( I don't know much about it apart from some dodgy internet research so like, if its innaccurate please comment so I can change it)
> 
> Love you people. God Bless :}

It was the first word that came to her head when she heard the screeching sound of metal on gravel. 

Zimniy Soldat — The Winter Soldier.

It was one of those things that you remember, and you realise that you haven’t remembered. Its just that you tried really hard to forget.

She knows that that word will haunt her until she understands it.

 

A phantom pan flares in her hip, which makes sense, but —

Steve was in danger.

She ran under the bridge, escaping from his clutches, her heart pounding as she realised that Steve was in danger, as was Wilson.

She realised that she was a mission — not just Steve. It was strange, the dread and fear were rung though her veins, along with the calm practiced planning; but there was something else, an excitement, a thrill a vengeance that was wanted.

She left a recording of her voice, and hid .

He fell for it, and honestly it was pathetic. He had blown up a car, wasted ammunition and time just because of a recording. She could defeat him.

Her muscles tensed as she leapt, her thighs landing on his shoulders as she twisted. She would not kill, but she had to subdue him.  
She pulled a cord, and wrapped it around his neck, pulling back as he stumbled under her weight.  
He slamed into a car, slightly denting his metal arm.

His metal arm.

Everything slowed down. Flashes on Natalia’s eyes. Blood glinting on metal knuckles. Lessons with an American. Hands angrily braiding her hair for a mission, leaving her hair frizzy with static.  
Orders to seduce. Orders to keep the mask on, even when at headquarters.

 

And suddenly she was flying. Like a puppet with its strings cut mid dance, she slumped onto the floor. Not even registering the glass embedded on her torso, she numbly pulled out an electro-disk, threw it, and fled.

 

This time, running was not easy. She wasn’t breathing in calm steady breaths, her muscles were not full of energy. It was as if her body was just as confused as her mind.

She shoved people, pointing at random hiding points and shelters that were in her view. She could see everything, the screams, the bullets, the frantic phonecalls and the smell of gunpowder, blood and dirt.

She heard a shot go off as she ran to hide behind a car, when everything went white.

It was a second of pure white. Hot, and pure concentrated in her shoulder.

She turned, seeing the Soldat standing there, waiting with a rifle, readying himself to shoot her.

Then Steve went all superman and decided to smash into him.

She ignored the sticky wetness of her shirt, buttoning up her leather jacket, and concentrating on ignoring the pain. She scooted forward, too tired to stand up, and grabbed a grenade launcher, just incase.  
Everything was becoming more deafening. The smell of blood, sweat, gravel, petrol and brake fluid, she sounds were intense, the thuds, grunts, bullets, the screeching metal and the angry punches.

 

Then everything stopped.

Quiet— but unsettling. More unsettling than the noise.

“Bucky”

No. But it made sense. But it couldn’t be—

“Who the hell is Bucky”

It was true. Cold hands. Blue lips. Shoving her into a cryogenic chamber. Staring at the blue-eyed man as the cold began to take over.

She stood up, and just in time. Sam swooped in, saving Steve, whom was just blinking wide eyed at his attacker.

 

As he got ready to shoot, she fired.

Smoke billowed outwards, polluting the air. Yellow-orange flames flared up before disappearing.

 

He was gone.

 

She dropped the weapon, adrenaline fading into shock as she began to feel the cold.

( Her pigtailed hair frosting over. A man screaming. Blood on white snow.)

She was dragged forward, wincing as he squeezed her shoulder hard enough to bruise. 

Blood was drying slowly on top of the mask, her nose feeling sore.

 

She stepped into the van, stifling a groan as her shoulder was yanked into hand cuffs.

Steve was numbly staring forward, muttering over and over again.

“ I knew him.I knew him”

She tried to say 

“ It wasn’t your fault, Steve”

But it turns out her body didn’t want to obey. The residual effects from the concussion were making her sluggish, tired and nauseous as it was, the bullet wound was worsening things by giving her shock and blood loss.

So she slurred slightly, and her head lolled listlessly against Sam’s shoulder.

He looked at her, wide eyes questioning her strange behaviour. His eyes widened, seeing something that wasn’t right.

His eyes flickered from her legs to her arms. He asked something, which she must have agreed to, as he began unbuttoning her jacket.  
Normally she would have panicked, but she was just too tired.

She had known him as well. Only, the memories of him didn’t make sense ( but then again, none of her memories before she had come to SHIELD really did). She has memories of makeup, dresses and dancing ballet, and memories of beatings, torture training, and seduction training.

She scrunched her eyes closed as her jacket came off, the pain making her focus on everything.

Sam looked at her, and then stared at the blood slicked jacket.

He then checked her eyes, and asked her to look at him. Apparently something was bad as he shouted something.

She was too tired to care what was, but it must have been important as Steve’s head suddenly snapped up, his slouched posture tensing into military attention.

She sat up, snatching her jacket from the floor, as a blinding flash of electricity compounded with a thud sounded.

The rebellious guard kicked their colleagues unconscious form, then pulled their helmet off.

Maria was the rebellious guard. She looked at them, sadly, and slightly guiltily. She cast a confused glance at Sam’s face, looked pityingly at Steve, and just refused to look at her.

Natasha was mildly hurt. She had thought that Maria was a friend.

Maria was one of the two people in the world that knew.

As Steve whispers “But, I knew him” for the last time before the van stops. Natasha ignores it, the fact echoing inside her head. But she can’t deny it.

“I knew him too. Once”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I did switch up things with the whole "Natasha got shot" part, but this is because I feel she would be more private, and less likely to open up to people due to her secrecy and her bad past with all things medical  
> 2\. I haven't decided if I should have the Winter Soldier be a bad person from Natasha's past or a good person from her past as they can't have a romantic relationship without her age making things really, really awful. Please comment what you think I should do/  
> 3, I hope you liked it! Look after yourselves, love you all \\_( ' ')_/ ( this was meant to be hug)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya, I hope this is good. Please comment below,any changes you would make , improvements you want to see or innacuracies you spotted.
> 
> I'm still unsure whether to to a good!pastBucky or a bad!pastBucky, because I can't do the romance story line wihtout this story getting really, really dark. Or without hating this story.
> 
> I hope you like it, love you all.

The van stopped, a voice over the intercom indicating that they wanted a break, probably to eat, and then to plan how to inprison two public figures.

Maria pulled out the gadget, she couldn’t quite remember the name, but she remembered Simmons proudly gushing about it, stating that Fitz had made it and that he had given her the first prototype.

It cut through the metal like a knife through melted butter, leaking nothing but a narrow charcoal line in its place as she pulled the metal upwards, proud that she hadn’t winced as it pulled on her shoulder.

They crawled down, dislodging a sewer tap, and climbing down into the stench. To be fair, it was relatively clean. Her shoes would be ruined, and she would definitely need a shower afterwards, but all in all, she had had worse.

Steve had lost the glazed look in his eyes, and had a focused determined expression as he crawled through the pipe. Maria would’t look at her, or even speak to her as she spoke, to Sam and Stve :

“ Look, I can’t explain what’s going on right now. I’ll explain once were at the safe-house. We’re not very far, there should be an opening within the next 50 metres”

Sam was crawling with the same stubborn face as Steve had on, only he kept on looking back at her worriedly, as if she had a serious injury.

Naivety was sweet.

Years of training had taught her how to block off the pain receptors in her brain. It was difficult at time consuming when there wasn’t a mission going on, hence the pain in the van, but now that she had a mission, it was merely like flicking a switch.

 

They stopped, and Maria pushed on the lid, revealing blinding light which indicated that they were near the destination. Steve pushed himself out afterwards, then Sam, whom seemed to look rather relieved to be out in the open.

Finally she pushed herself out, Steve’s eyes widening as he eyes the blood tricking down her torso. Maria seemed unsure as to what to do, whilst Sam was angrily taking at his shirt.

He ripped a piece of cloth off, and put pressure on her shoulder, glaring at the other two as he seemed to be personally annoyed by their inaction.

They walked towards a warehouse, Steve apologetically supporting her weight as Maria punched in some codes.

They stripped forwards, Natasha focusing on ignoring the pain when they came to a halt.

The door swung open, and Natasha’s mind went blank.

Fury was there sleeping. Fury was alive. Maria knew. Fury had faked his death. Maria, and the doctor apparently, had helped. Fury had gone to Steve before faking his death. Natasha and Sam weren’t supposed to be here.

Those were the facts. The words swirled in her head, jumbling up, twisting and diving as she tried to understand the situation. Emotion was supposed to be here somewhere, but no, it wasn’t.

Sam took her to the doctor, and quickly gave off medical information.

“She’s lost 3 pints of blood. Bullet wound to the left shoulder, it is still in there. Injury occurred roughly an hour or two ago. Also, she had a concussion from about a day or so ago, pretty bad.”

She sat down in the chair, watching as the doctor pulled out his bag, and began cleaning the wound with iodine.

Steve stepped forwards, and began to explain what had happened. Fury looked up, his one yes too swollen to fully open.

“ The day before yesterday I had a full STRIKE team attack me, and try to kill me in an elevator. I escaped and returned to where I had hid the flash drive, discovering that Agent Romanoff had found it. We discovered that the “Winter Soldier” had been the one to … injure you. 

We then went undercover to find out what information the flash drive held, we were confronted with the STRIKE team again and used … evasive tactics to escape them. 

We traveled to New Jersey to where my old training camp was in 1942. We encountered a machine called Zola, which informed us that HYDRA had been infiltrating SHIELD since the 1950s. HYDRA found us and locked us in, bombing the compound.

We then went to New York and sought Sam Wilson, an ex air-force solider ….uh “  
Natasha sighed, then seeing that Steve was unsure what to say, she decided to finish the report.

“ Sam Wilson is also the main subject of project Falcon, which began two years ago. He is clearly not HYDRA, I hacked into his filed on the way to his house.

We then went after Agent Sitwell, and we discovered that Senator Stern is also working for HYDRA. We interrogated Stern, discovering that Project Insight is based on Zola’s algorithms.

Tomorrow, the new Helicarriers will shoot down all members of the global population which seem to be capable of resisting HYDRA. This ranges from pacifists, children with non-violent tendencies, to government officials and organisations which will not support HYDRA.

On our way to SHIELD, we were attacked by a HYDRA STRIKE team, which also brought with them the Winter Soldier, whom was revealed to be a brainwashed, and presumably cryogenically frozen James Buchanan Barnes.

We were subdued, and were to be assassinated, but the act was postponed due to journalists arriving to the scene.”

Fury explained how he faked his death to prevent himself from being actually assassinated, and that he had suspected infiltration for a while, but not to this scale.

When questioned as to why he had kept it a secret, his words went straight into her heart, and hurt a billion times more than the bullet wound.

“I didn’t know who to trust”

She filed that away, as they formed a plan  
SHIELD would have to be uprooted, it was rotten to its core. Steve would disable the Helicarriers, Sam would aid him with the mission, and she would come in as Lady Smallwood, the only female council member, and would prevent any agreement from occurring.

 

They all looked at her dubiously when she stated it, but she merely stated

“ You didn’t think I would go on the run without a functional face veil, all I need to do is find a wig!”

She stated it comically, hoping it would hide how awful she felt. The painkillers were taking effect, making her drowsy, and her face felt sticky as the sweat on her forehead stuck to the veil.

She didn’t want to think about Fury or Maria. She just wanted to run away, rip the mask off, and live in a world without Avengers, or spies or agents, or HYDRA.

She felt herself sway dangerously, pouting at the realisation that she had been given sedatives, not painkillers. No wonder the Fury had seemed so pleased when she looked away from her arm and began to speak.

She saw two large blurs sit down on beds, as she was slowly lead to one herself. She curled in on herself, and heard Maria whisper

“ I’m so sorry you got caught up in this, Natalia. I’m so, so sorry”

She could have opened her eyes and given an angry rant. She could have accepted the apology and gone to sleep peacefully.

She did neither. SHIELD had taught her forgiveness, but life had taught her remembrance.

She succumbed to sleep, dreaming of synthetic faces, arms and wings.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha deals with the aftermaths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovely people.
> 
> This is the last chaper of this story, so comment, rant, or read it please :)
> 
> Also, let me know a few things, if possible
> 
> a) Should I continue this series  
> b) If yes, do I do Avengers, Age of Ultron or do I just do random oneshots  
> c) Is Bucky a good person from Natasha's past, or not.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this. I know my grammar and creativity are lacking but THANK YOU
> 
> Love you all

She decides, in the hospital, to open the filing system. She had shut it down after the Avengers initiative had been put into action because, since when do Avengers take days off to sort through their memories?

There are the old files, the made up memory files, the “not sure if this actually happened or not files”. There are people files, the persona files and the factual files.

She quickly shoves a bunch of information into separate files, knowing that she only has an hour or so before Sam comes back. She takes the files, and shoves them into a corner, to be seen, and viewed and evaluated once she has time.

Once the world gets back to normal.

Steve sleeps, and sleeps and sleeps. Its been almost fourteen hours now, and the doctors keep on mentioning words like “coma”, “internal bleeding” and “mabye”.

She doesn’t listen.

Fury has disappeared, no explanation , no apology. Maria, and many good SHIELD employees have either disappeared, joined Stark Industries, or are trying to rebuild SHIELD.

Hydra turns out to be everywhere. From corporate industries, governments, NGO’s and IGO’s, Hydra had its fingers in so many pies, its almost unbelievable.

She sets on writing a speech, wondering what Natasha Romanoff, the twenty-nine year-old assassin from Russia, whom chose to kill a bunch of people under orders would say. What she would do.

( She knows what Natalia Romanova, a nineteen-year-old girl, who just want to stop being part of a madman’s plan for one would do. She would run.)

She plans speeches, observes news channels, and ignores the reporters.

When she talks on Capitol Hill, she knows what she looks like. Smooth hair, perfect suit, just showing off her curves. No russian accent, and pure truths being laid out.

SHIELD has crumbled, and yes that does mean that security agencies, and “heroic” groups are not to be trusted.

 

But a world without heroes, and too many villains, is not any better than a world run by the villains pretending to be heroes.

She knows she was too blunt, too brash, not diplomatic enough. She can almost hear Madame’s reprimands, telling her of her faliures.

Stark is waiting outside. She didn’t expect him to do anything, he is after all, having his companies invades by spies, agents and officers.

She doesn’t slow her pace down, and just sits in the car, the hum of the uranium engine, and the AC/DC playing in the background strangely soothing.

The last time she was in one of Stark’s cars, aliens weren’t a thing yet. She was sixteen, and excited to end her mission.

After half an hour of driving Tony speaks.

:” I can’t take you to the Tower yet, but in a week I’ll be outside the safe-house . There is a safe inside the house containing a burner phone, cash and things to build up a false identity… Sorry I didn’t help out, Tash”

He didn’t know if she was Hydra or not either. She doesn’t feel offended with him because he has every right not to trust her.

When he leaves her, she kisses him on the cheek. She isn’t sure if she did it right judging y his bewildered reaction, but she tried.

She can feel cracks appearing as she enters the house.

She sits on the bed, then lies down, then wraps herself up in a blanket. 

 

She doesn’t leave the room for about two days. Its like everything turned to mush, and her brain just had to spend two days putting everything back together.

 

On the third day, she gets out of the bed. 

 

She takes off her mask, and looks in the mirror. The mask makes her bright green eyes seem duller, and her scars fade away.

Without the mask she looks different. Her nose is less pointed, rounded slightly, and her cheeks don’t bulge above the false mouth lines. Her crows feet, which just appear on the mask are almost non-existent.

She looks in the mirror, and builds a new Natasha Romanoff.

She cuts her hair short, and lets it curl. She changes her makeup, going for a 1920’s feel instead of the modern feel she had been going for.

The older Natasha Romanoff was always formal, was always an agent. This Natasha Romonoff will be different.  
She decides to wear girly-feminine clothing, elegant, modest but very clearly feminine.   
This Natasha Romanoff will not be the mindless agent just following orders.

She meets Steve in a cemetery a week later. She wears a wig, and puts on old Natasha Romanoff clothes.  
She hands him a file that Katrina had given her before she left. She never looked at it, and never understood why she was given it.  
Now, she will probably never know.

Fury still refuses to acknowledge her, merely nodding at her as he walks away. She says goodbye to both men, and gives up a false story about building covers.

She is about to fall asleep, ready to be a civilian, when a text message arrives on the burner phone.

1 ( AVENGERS).THE SCEPTRE HAS BEEN TAKEN.

MISSION : FIND IT. DESTROY BASE. DESTROY ANY PRODUCTS  
0   
2\. ( BLACK WIDOW) BANNER

MISSION : ROMANTICALLY COMPROMISE BANNER. IF NOT ACHIEVED, BANNER WILL BE TAKEN INTO THE RAFT.

CIA E. R.

She sighs. It looked like the new Natasha Romanoff would have a hard time not being the errand girl of a military organisation.

She debates deleting the messages, but cant. This comes from the CIA, and she can see their ( somewhat despotic) reasoning .

But this time, she will have control. She will not be the submissive, obedient fool.

 

It is the beginning of a new age.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now was not the time for emotions, secrets or lies. Now it was time for action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya lovelies. Hope your day is going well.
> 
> I hope you like this chapter. Please pont out any innacuracies, problems or ideas you have about what you through about this chapter, or even this series.
> 
> I love you all. Drink water, and God Bess :)

The next morning she woke up, and spent about fifteen minutes filtering her information into the cold hard facts, of what had happened, and what needed to happen now.

Emotions were filtered out obviously, she could deal with them later. Alone. With emotions showing on her actual face instead of her mask.

She makes a show of waking up, knowing that Steve and Sam will expect her to wake up later than them, due to a combination of sedatives and lack of military upbringing.

People’s assumptions are always amusing.

She lets her eyeballs shift, rolls over, and then flutters her eyelashes, feigning a yawn and stretching like a lazy cat.

She gets up, grabs a protein bar from the table, and gets to work. 

The finds a suit in the bathroom, blue with slight padding. She puts it on seeing a more rounded stomach, thicker thighs and can’t shake off the feeling that she will have to resort to wearing clothes like this in her fifties, because she doesn’t plan on anyone else knowing.

 

The face veil takes time. Lots and lots of time. First she has to find a picture of the woman, implant it into the veil, and then adjust it tofu her face, using tricks of light.

She looks up to a smaller, more rounded face, with harsh wrinkle lines, freckles and an oily skin tone. It is bizarre, but it isn’t unusual.

She just hopes that she doesn’t have to take it off.

She steps out, fighting a smirk as Sam and Steve choke on their coffee, whilst Maria and Fury look on approvingly.  
She leaves early, hiring a high-end taxi to take her to the SHIELD building. The takes a pill to change her voice, and works to make it hoarser and shakier, like than of an older woman.

She smilingly greets Pierce, and diplomatically addresses the other council members. None have the wide smile, or the slightly mains look to them that Pierce has, but that means very little. 

These were the men that ordered her execution, and forced her to do almost daily seduction missions for a year, they didn’t know her age, of course, but it doesn’t change the facts.

Pierce hands them a pin, and instructs them where to put it. She does so, her face showing excitement about the advanced technology, but she knows this is a trap.

This pin is too close to her heart, and has a lot of electrical charge for it to be just an electronic pin.

She sits down, decorum and stern education emanating from her form. 

Pierce begins his speech. t starts of happily, giving everyone champagne, and talking of a safer, better future.

Everyone smiles accordingly, idealism and naivety shining in their ignorant eyes. As Pierce continues talking, the eyes get more confused, and bewildered.

She can hear explosions and gunshots outside, the “soundproof” glass being rather useless against bombs and machine guns.

Pierce walks outside, and a grim look sets on his face, but his eyes betray his glee.

He begins to subtly threat the Council-Member Lutaaya, stating that this is a way to prevent world catastrophe before it begins.

She keeps a shocked, but stern look on her face, as if to keep the facade of peaceful negotiation on. 

Until, the man decided to refuse in the most volatile way, smashing a champagne flute on the floor.  
As Pierce gets a gun from his lackeys she sighs. Oh well. Everyone here is old anyway, they won’t see her face changes. Or will be too in shock to care.

Whatever.

She swings round, kicking Pierce’s gun from his grasp, flicking the gun into her hands as she flips, her body thrumming with adrenaline.  
She throws her bites, kicks, punches and fights her way through the pathetic body guards.

Brawn without brains is useless in this line of work.

Pierce looks at her bewildered and angry as she steps forward, gun in her grasp, in a way the delicate council-woman, whom has never seen the field, would never hold it.

She touches the side of her face, sighing as she feels it come off in public for the first time since she came to SHIELD.

She scrunches it up, her hands almost shaking with apprehension as she fakes a calm, cynical air.

“I’m sorry… did I step on your moment?”

She keeps him at gunpoint as she steps behind the computer. She hands Council-Man Hikaru a gun, knowing his experienced military past, she knows he won’t hesitate to shoot if needed.

She steps behind the computer, and begins deleting things. 

Tony Stark’s files are sanitised, wiping out a few deeds he did when SHIELD forced him to. Clint’s past is largely wiped out, as is any hint of a family.  
Her past it ugly, but she never gave all of it to SHIELD. Maria and Simmons know the most, Clint knows a bit, but she had only given about 10% to SHIELD.

For what turns out to be an evil agency, they should have been more thorough.

She files the information she finds on Coulson away for later use, sends herself some fun files to look at.

She notices the fear receding in Pierce’s face as she begins typing in the code to erase the encryption.

He smugly lets her know that two Council members are needed, and she internally jumps for joy when Nick arrives at that precise moment.

Dramatic entrances always are amusing.

Nick steps out, a bitter sweet cold running down her heart as she sees him enter.

But emotions will just have to hold out for a little while longer.

Their Pierce still looks smug, going on about some last minute plan to convince Fury to his side, whilst Natasha keeps on editing files.

Simmon’s and Fitz’s file is so edited by the time she finishes, it says nothing more than their names, certificates and vague physical descriptions.  
Maria’s is harder to edit, but she tries.

Finally , Pierce stops ranting and stands forward, allowing his retina to be scanned, and seems rather affronted as Nick shows his hidden eye to the screen, which accepts it.

As all the council members step forwards, ant one by one, the helicarriers begin to fall, Pierce gets angry.

He detonates the badges of all the council-members, and as she sees them fall to the floor, she knows that the badge on her chest, is her death sentence.

He grabs her, telling her to get him out, and frankly Natasha is fed up. Fed up of old men who won’t get their hands dirty using her, tired of people using death threats to use her.

So she grabs a bite, and knowing that this could potentially leave her in a coma, snaps it.

As she falls, she hears smashing glass. Pain covers her, the extra electricity from the pin adding to the bite.   
Something thumps on her chest, shaking her, she flutters her eyes open seeing a very shocked Nicolas Fury.

He begins to stare at her face, so she turns around, and quickly helps him up, and walks out.

She refuses to look at him, as she places the veil back on, and calibrates her face back to normal.

Now is not the time for explanations. He didn’t tell her the truth, so she doesn’t have to either.

Now it is time to help Steve, and Sam.


End file.
